We were laughing tonight about a memory of our first visit to the pediatrician we have now. It was summer 2007. Both kids were due some shots because we had been through the ringer with doctors - we left one, then one left town, and Amarillo has quite the pedi shortage anyway! So anyway, we both finished our check-up portion of the visit. It was time for shots, and everyone knew it.
Side note here: I always tell my kids what's going to happen at the doctor/dentist, etc. I want to prepare them for the possibility of something unpleasant. I want them to trust me and to have as positive experience as possible, so I don't pull any punches at the last minute.
So everyone knew what was about to happen. The nurse asked me to take Bryson into the room next door, and Brion would stay with Camryn in this room. As soon as Bryson got into the other room, he began to hide under the gurney. I got him out, and we talked about what was going to happen - it would hurt, but then we'd be done, why we get the shots, why mommy knowingly lets someone hurt him - all the ordinary stuff. I thought we were making progress. At least he wasn't wailing his head off, and he was now sitting ON the gurney instead of UNDER it!
Then the nurse walks in. As I go to hold his legs down, he says, "Hi-ya!! COWABUNGA!" as he proceeds to start kicking - yes kicking - his legs at the poor woman.
What can you do at that moment? As she half-heartedly assures me that she's had worse, I see that obligatory, disbelieving look in her eye. "Yeah, right," I'm thinking to myself, "You've actually had a kid pull TMNT moves on you before!"
We got the dirty work done as quickly as possible. I'm mending fences and wiping tears. He's calming down surprisingly well. Bless his heart. We go back into the room where Camryn and Brion are waiting.
Needless to say, she had heard the blood-curdling screams coming from the other room. Her eyes were now as big as .50 pieces. Up until then, she had reasoned that she could handle anything they were going to dish out. After all, she hadn't even cried at the last flu shot appointment.
In comes the nurse. "We're good," I keep telling myself, trying to reclaim some shred of control I have on my kids in this situation. Camryn complied with teary eyes, but she really was holding it together. That's about when Bryson sees what's happening. He then starts trying to fight his way out of my arms, screaming, "Don't do that to my sissy!!!! Get away - bad lady!"
I do love that they love each other enough to stick up for each other. That's my kids - they're either totally best friends or wanting to kill each other.
Fastforward to tonight in Arby's:
Just a disclaimer: I knew full-well they were both way beyond tired because of going to bed late last night. So why we didn't just go through the drive-thru is beyond me.
Let's just recap enough to give you the crux of what happened: I'm ordering, my kids are running around like those kids I give dirty looks to in restaurants, and Camryn comes up, interrupts me as I'm speaking to the Arby's worker and says, "Mom, I think Bryson just called me a (word that rhymes with witch.)" Of course this isn't registering in my head as I'm trying to order my curly fries.
"Camryn, don't interrupt me!" I say. Okay, where was I? Oh yeah - and make that a large diet...
(insert record scratch noise here!)
"WHAT?" By this time, she's on the other side of me, telling Brion the same thing, and loudly. The Arby's worker's face is somewhere between 'I feel sorry for you' and 'hurry up, lady' and 'okay, this is gettin' good.' Brion is finishing ordering. My mind is still going in slow-motion over Camryn's voice saying that word. All the sudden, from a table on the other side of the room, I hear Bryson crying and loudly saying,
"Camryn, you're lying. I didn't call you a (word that rhymes with witch again!) Yes, we're getting those looks from everybody in the restaurant by now! I get over to the table, and Bryson is hysterical. But for some reason, I couldn't calm him down enough to get him to realize that the more he screamed, "I DIDN'T call her a (b/witch)!" the more he was actually saying the word.
Well folks, rest easy, that wasn't the word of the day in Kindergarten today. Turns out, it was a total misunderstanding! Bryson has some issues right now with justice not being served, and his heart is really tender. He was absolutely distraught that Camryn was saying he said something he hadn't said.
So next time you're in a fast food restaurant on a week night, and you see some school-aged, tired-eyed, sailor-mouthed children running ragged, just remember, they really might have a mom who doesn't even allow the words butt, stupid, and fart. They might just be having a really bad night!